


Your Name on My Soul

by orphan_account



Category: The Good Fight (TV), The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Ficlets, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Smut, abandoned because i have no motivation, someone inspire me or prompt me please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: McHart one-shots varying in length. Fluff, smut, angst, oh my!
Relationships: Diane Lockhart/Kurt McVeigh
Comments: 20
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not at all an experienced writer, so please bear with me. Reviews and kudos are very much appreciated.  
> Tiny warning of angst in this first one. This is unbeta’d - any and all mistakes are mine.

_I'm angry with you,_

_but I'm not going to lie;_

_I miss you,_

_and no matter what I do_

_you're never off my mind._

It has been a long and tiring three weeks. Three weeks since she stood up, head held high, and walked out of the courtroom where Kurt's infidelity came to light. 

She was tired. She was angry. But most of all, she was disappointed. Disappointed in herself, and in the fact that even though, the most honest man she knew broke her trust, she still missed him. She still wanted him here, to hold her, breathe in her scent, kiss her softly, and take up that now cold side of the bed.

She trudged to the kitchen, pulled out Merlot, and poured herself a full glass. Drinking was one of the things she took up to occupy her time nowadays. After work, she came home to emptiness. No one waiting for her. No one there that she could sit and spill out her exhausting day.

This became a routine after three days since that courtroom phenomenon. She'd run a warm bath and drink her conscious away. At least that's what she thought she was doing.

No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't get him off her mind.

He was always there.

His cowboy scent was still on his pillow. She eventually had to throw the damn thing off the bed in order to be able to fall asleep. His memory flooded her mind almost every second. Sleep was her one savior.

Sometimes she wished she could sleep forever. She was tired of going through the rough days, and then coming home with the heavy air in the house. Every morning, every night. It was different when she didn't even know he existed. Before him, coming home alone was normal. But now, it's a constant reminder of not only him, but _her_.

Every time she thought about him, she thought about her. She knew young, pretty, 20-something year olds, especially blondes, were every man's weakness. But somehow she had started to believe that Kurt was different. That he had no interest in them. She turned out to be wrong.

And no matter what he says, _I had too much to drink, I hadn't seen you in three weeks and she wasn't a stranger, it won't happen again..._

She couldn't stop her insecure nature from racking her mind to these thoughts.

_I know I'm not 20 years old anymore._

_I know my body doesn't look like it used to._

_I know I have wrinkles in my face, and tired, baggy eyes._

_I know I'm not as agile as I once was._

When these thoughts came, she couldn't help but think it was her fault. Maybe she wasn't giving him enough. Maybe she wasn't able to do what he wanted, or needed. Maybe he finally just got tired... of her.

She feels so stupid. She feels betrayed and lonely. She hates it. She wishes she could just call him and he'd come over and envelop her, and they could forget about it all even happening and just go back to the way things were. But she's too smart and too full of pride to do that. She knows the tension would be there. He'd probably be shocked and unable to speak properly. Then, he'd say something pitiful or try to explain himself. She didn't want that.

So, she resisted that urge. She got out the bath, her skin now pruny and waterlogged. She lost track of time again. She feels so empty inside. All she feels is numb.

She quickly but gingerly slipped on a simple black nightgown and went straight to bed. Not even bothering with watching the news, or checking her phone for any missed calls or messages. She was tired.

But was she tired of being alone, tired of feeling guilt, tired of being self-hating and wallowing, or tired of feeling anger towards one of the only men to ever bring her real happiness. She couldn't decide. Maybe it was a little bit of all four. 

She pulled back the covers of her king-sized bed. It was much too big for just her now. It swallowed her whole. She laid down, and felt her entire being sink. She felt so hollow, and yet so heavy at the same time. Her eyes closed, and she gulped back a sob.

Today had been an extra difficult day. She was slipping up at work, and people were starting to take notice. She hoped for an escape at home, warm arms to give her strength and comfort her. But she knew those arms that used to hold her now were shared with someone else. She didn't want them, and she knew they were no longer there anyway. 

She was tired.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt testifies and it's both of their favorite thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This will most likely include inaccurate courtroom processes because I don't know a thing about how any of it actually goes down. So, please forgive any mistakes made in the writing of this courtroom procedure.
> 
> This is unbeta'd--any and all mistakes are my own.

_I feel your eyes_

_staring into mine_

_watching me_

_searching for my true intentions_

It was the first case of the morning. A young man named Dylan Wright was accused of murdering his girlfriend, Casey Powell. The prosecutor seemed to be well prepared. Diane could tell he had special experience in these particular cases. The way he knew how to get around her witnesses’ testimonies and what to say in order to sway the jury’s opinions about her client. He was complacent and a charlatan of empathy.

But she had a secret weapon: Kurt.

Kurt had agreed to take on this case with her and her firm, after they had found solid proof that he was innocent, of course. No, her client didn’t have an iron clad alibi, and he did have a motive. Plus, to make matters worse, his DNA was discovered on the jacket left at the scene, that was also covered in the victim’s blood.

However, his DNA was not on the located murder weapon. It was found to be a Ruger SR9c: a 9mm pistol that’s relatively easy to afford. They’d discovered it in one of the bushes near the body; most likely tossed before the assailant ran.

Right now, Diane imagined the suspect being a family member. _It was undoubtedly their first-time committing murder, they’d never seen a dead body before, and they loved the victim once. Therefore, when they killed her, they freaked out and dashed._ It made sense to her and was fairly more common than people would think.

Kurt visited earlier in the week to scrutinize the crime scene and create his testimony. He concluded that the suspect was at least six feet tall, and that the victim was shot was 27 feet away at a diagonal angle. The suspect stood behind the bushes that surrounded the circular concrete path at the center of the park. He shot her and then dropped the gun.

They were in court now; Kurt just got on the stand. Diane softly smiled at him for a moment, completely enamored with the sight of him in her environment. She confidently stood and walked around the defendant’s table with grace. She noticed his eyes watching her every move. Every sway of her hips, every step, every little mannerism and facial movement she did.

She approached him and their eyes were already communicating the planned lines soon to come. “Mr. McVeigh,” she started simply as she pushed the remote button, turning on the presentation slide showing a simple map of the crime scene. “Were you able to determine the range at which Ms. Powell was shot?” She said as she hovered her finger quickly over the map, drawing a line suggestively.

“Yes. It is my understanding that she was shot from 27 feet away and at a diagonal angle coming from the direction of the southeast bushes.”

“These bushes here?” She said, pointing.

“Yes.”

“And is that where the murder weapon, a pistol, was also found?”

“Yes.”

"And the 9mm bullet that was in the victim, belonged to this gun?"

"Yes."

“And is it to your understanding that my client was not the one who used the gun?”

“Objection!” The prosecutor shouted, standing up and boring his eyes into Diane’s back.

“Sustained.”

“I’m sorry, let me rephrase,” Diane remarked casually. “Did my client own the gun?”

“No.”

“Was my client’s DNA found on the gun?”

“No.”

“No further questions, Your Honor.” Diane stated as she smirked slightly and turned away.

Diane walked out of the courtroom and waited on the wall for Kurt. She sees him heading her way, his eyes are darker than usual. When he reaches her, she surprises him as she grabs his hand and pulls him to a back corner. She pushes him against the wall and presses her lips to his firmly with need.

“God, I love it when you’re on the stand.” She moves her hands up his chest under his jacket, feeling all over.

“And I love being on the stand,” he says as he switches their positions, now pressing her up against the wall. “Getting to watch your sexy ass outsmart some pompous ass?” he says rhetorically. “It’s my favorite thing,” he growls as he starts to move his hands over her thighs and backside.

“Kurt, not here,” she says breathlessly.

He pulls himself away, only to grab her by the hand and start dragging her out the building. She smirks as he leads her along, knowing that they only need to make it to the car.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diane comes home after a tiring day at work. Smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Rating has been changed accordingly.

Diane turned the keys in the door, immediately slipping off her heels once she entered. She shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, closing her eyes for a brief moment, and relishing in the fact that she was finally home. It had been an exhausting day, and she was socially and physically drained.

“Hey,” Kurt said warmly as he approached her in the entrance hallway.

“Hey,” she breathed out, sounding the same way she does after she just chased Justice for the newspaper.

“Long day?” he asked, partially already presuming the answer due to the recognizable tone in her voice.

She forced out a low chuckle, “You could say that.”

He helped her out of her coat. “I’m going to take a bath,” she said, already heading for their bathroom. He watched her drag her feet and trudge toward their room. Once she was out of sight, he nodded to himself, understanding the situation. He went into the kitchen, pulled out her favorite tea, and started preparing the water.

She entered their bedroom and had to resist the strong urge to just fall onto the tempting mattress. She slowly removed her attire, finally beginning to relax in the familiar and comfortable atmosphere. She turned on the bath, setting the water to warm. She instantly slipped in, closed her eyes, and just laid in the calming blanket of water. She felt her muscles ease.

Kurt knocked lightly on the door, peaking in. She opened her eyes and sat up when she saw him. “How’re you feeling?” he asked, handing her a mug of the tea.

“I’m better, thank you,” she said, taking the tea admiringly, her eyes full of gratitude and love for the gesture. She took a sip, her eyes instinctively shutting as the tasteful liquid regenerated her mouth.

Kurt stayed kneeling beside the bath, watching her body start to recuperate. “I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner,” he said as he stood up and headed toward the door.

“Kurt,” she called, causing him to turn. She paused for a moment with his captured attention, then softly said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responded and then left her in peace and went back into the kitchen.

Diane chuckled lowly as she shook her head, “How did I get so lucky,” she said to herself. Meanwhile, Kurt started to create their supper: Oatmeal. He knew she didn’t like anything too complex after a long day. He added some berries on top, finishing the final touches when he heard her start to drain the bath. Perfect timing.

He sat the bowls on the coffee table in front of the couch, grabbed a blanket, and waited for her arrival. Diane slipped on a silk black nightdress and robe, tied it shut, and headed to the kitchen barefooted.

She walked in, calling out, “Kurt?”

“Over here,” he replied, turning his head around.

She padded over to the couch to join him, smiling at the sight of him. “Hey,” she said as she sat down next to him, tucking her legs underneath her. He handed her an oatmeal bowl and pulled the blanket over her. She laughed as she received her oatmeal for dinner, “My favorite.”

She let a silent moment rest between them before adding, “You’re too good to me.”

“You deserve it,” he said without hesitation, and he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

She dug into her oatmeal with evident hunger. She moaned, “This is delicious.”

They continued eating in comfortable silence, until Kurt finally asked, “You wanna tell me about your day?” He thought he would at least ask, just in case talking about it helped.

“No,” she replied in a casual tone.

“Okay,” he said considerately.

They set their bowls back on the coffee table. Diane rested her elbow on the top of the couch, and she leaned her head into her hand. She stared at him, watching him, feeling complete admiration for this man. She leaned forward not a moment after and kissed him on the lips gently. She pulled back.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he said with a loving smirk.

She laughed lightly and leaned forward again to capture his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed herself on top of him. She started to trail kisses along his neck and down his chest while unbuttoning the shirt in the way.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he said deeply.

“You already have.”

“Let me finish,” he answered, and grabbed her waist. He flipped their positions, now hovering over her, and started to untie her robe. Diane took a deep breath in, then exhaling out, shakily. He could feel her hot breath on his face. Once he got the robe undone, he pushed up the hem of her nightgown to her hips.

She was moaning breathily while pulling off his shirt. She rested her hands on his chest, grazing her nails over his nipples and chest hairs. He grew more impatient, he pulled down her panties, and held her legs, spreading them apart. He went down and bit the inside of her thigh. She yelped. He looked up at her and grinned. She was looking back at him, eyes filled with lust, and biting her bottom lip. He continued eye contact as he suddenly inserted his fingers in her. She tilted her head back and let out a moan. He quickly amped up the stimulation by pressing his thumb to her clit.

“Kurt!” she shrieked.

She moved her hands to his wrists, not sure whether to push them away from too much stimulation or to keep them there. She was so close. He could tell too. He moved his hand from her clit, slipped it under her nightgown, and started massaging her breast. He replaced the hand that was previously on her clit with his mouth. Not long after he started sucking on her bud, he heard those magic words:

“Kurt, I’m gonna cum,” she growled out.

He increased the speed of his fingers and at the last moment, he bit down on her clit gently.

“Kurt!” she screamed as her body quickly spasmed in pleasure. He stopped the attack with his mouth, but kept his fingers pushing in and out, letting her ride out her high. Once she began to rest, he took them out and licked them appreciatively.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out huskily, her eyes were still closed with ecstasy. She turned on her side and placed her hand over her highly sensitive area. He started massaging her legs and waited for her to calm. She turned back to face him, and he kissed his way up her body, ending with her lips. She moaned into his mouth.

“That was…,” she started. She drew out, “so good.”

“I’m glad,” he said, hovering his lips over hers.

They stood up from the couch to put their clothes back on and went back to where they started. They sat back down on the couch and Diane curled up against the side of Kurt, resting her head on his shoulder, and arm draping across his chest. His head was sitting on top of hers and his arms were wrapped around her waist. They had the blanket over them, both satisfied and enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Both of their eyes closed gingerly, their bodies stilling in the comfort of each other.

Before she drifted off to sleep in his arms, he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my very first time writing smut! I hope I did it justice for my favorite couple. Comments and kudos are appreciated as always, thanks!


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